The Darkening
by LadyCrow74
Summary: Nancy gets herself and Sarah out of detention with some help from a friend...takes place during the middle of The Craft. A little creepy.


  
This is a short Craft fic I wrote that takes place around the middle of the movie, right after Nancy inherits the money and all the spells are working for the girls. If you like this, check out my new Craft tribute website, the address is in my profile. Thanks!  
--Ladycrow74  
  
  
**The Darkening**  
  
Sarah felt a lump in her throat, and she knew it was silly, but she just couldn't help it: she had never been in detention before. Well, there was that one time in third grade when she had been talking out loud in class -- but that was because some sort of spirit sat on her desk and started picking his nose, it really wasn't her fault.  
  
This time it had certainly been her fault, her fault and Nancy's. They both sat in the empty classroom, Sarah trying to read up on her Shakespeare assignment, Nancy scowling at the nun at the front of the room. Her friend's sullen demeanor made Sarah more nervous, not just because of the threat of more detention, but because Nancy seemed to take more chances in general these days, not caring about authorities or consequences.  
  
Maybe it was the recent inheritance, with her stepdad dying and all. Or maybe it was Manon.  
  
Nancy whispered to Sarah,  
  
"We don't have to take this, you know."  
  
"Nancy, we're going to get in more trouble..."  
  
The nun's voice, deep and scratchy, shot through the room.  
  
"Girls! No talking!"  
  
Nancy's ice-blue eyes, smoldering, fixed upon the nun and remained there as she chanted wordlessly. Chills traveled up Sarah's spine -- she realized what the girl was doing! And she was torn, between wanting to join in and prematurely end their detention, stopping Nancy from hexing the teacher, and just running out the door. In the end, she did none of the three, just keeping her attention on the sonnets in her book.  
  
As Nancy's full, dark-red lips vibrated the nun alternated between glancing nervously and and trying to ignore her. She knew the girl was considered a troubled case -- perhaps this was all part of Tourettes Syndrome or something like that, maybe a drug flashback.  
  
But then the middle-aged lady heard the hum. The hum and the fluttering coming from inside the top drawer of her desk. It was like something was inside, trying to get out. But she still wrote it off -- the janitorial system wasn't great around there, sometimes a mouse or a bug was found wandering. If she didn't open the drawer, whatever was there would remain, and probably die, the poor thing.  
  
Sarah felt her stomach tighten as the eerie scrape of the drawer slowly drawled throughout the room. And though she didn't look up, she knew, she KNEW that it wasn't their "jailer" who opened it.  
  
It was the vermin. Hundreds of them, forcing themselves out of their wooden prison and onto the lap of the nun, who started screaming. Worms, termites, beetles, mice.   
  
The sound of footsteps clattered through the hall, as teacher and student alike ran to see what the commotion was about.  
  
Nancy scooped up her shiny black vinyl backpack and bounded out of her chair, motioning towards Sarah to follow.  
  
"Class -- is _dismissed!_"  
  
*** *** ***  
  
It certainly was a beautiful late afternoon, Sarah thought. It was a good thing they were out of there.   
  
But a pretty shitty thing to do to another person, horrible nicotine-roughened voice or no.  
  
Nancy noticed her companion's troubled expression.  
  
"Sarah. What's up?"  
  
"Nothing, I...that was kind of _extreme_, you know?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Sarah's eyes widened in disbelief.  
  
"What do you mean, _what_? The bugs and stuff. It really scared her."  
  
"Who cares if it scared her? She doesn't matter."  
  
"She's a _person_, Nancy..."  
  
"She's not important. Manon doesn't consider her important."  
  
Her argument seemingly falling on deaf ears, Nancy motioned to the sky in illustration.  
  
"See what a _gorgeous_ day it is? The sun, the clear sky...Manon wanted us out here, Sarah, he wanted us to be out here close to Him. And anybody who would keep us from here is the enemy of Manon, because he wants us _near_."   
  
"Yeah, but...next time, could we do something a little lighter? Like, maybe she has to...go to the bathroom or something, and she leaves the room and in the bathroom she gets in this long conversation with somebody else, and we're home free, detention's almost over."  
  
Nancy shook her head.  
  
"You've got to learn one of the cardinal rules about Manon --"  
  
She moved closer to Sarah in order to emphasize.  
  
" -- He doesn't like doing things _boring_."  
  
*** *** ***  
  
They walked to the park and found a nice, empty patch of grass to sit upon, under a lavish oak tree. Sarah found the tree and its foliage strangely comforting on a very deep level, on a level she hadn't been able to access before joining the Circle. In fact, it reminded her of what she thought Manon would look like, if he looked like anything material.  
  
"Nancy?"  
  
Nancy was lying on her stomach, idly pulling blades of grass out of the soil.  
  
"Yep?"  
  
"What do you think Manon looks like? You know, if he was suddenly in front of us in person so we could see him."  
  
"I already know how he looks like."  
  
Sarah was a bit taken aback by this statement, it intimated so many things, the top thing being that Nancy had some personal experience with Manon that was outside of the Circle, and this made her feel (and it felt silly to feel it) a twinge of jealousy.   
  
"He is about eight feet tall, muscular. Really pretty good-looking. I'd do him. Red skin, a hairy chest. A tail."  
  
"A _tail_?!"  
  
"He's Manon," Nancy said firmly, as if that explained it.  
  
Sarah rolled her eyes.  
  
"Does he have _horns_, too?"  
  
"Look, Sarah," Nancy snapped, "don't go judging me or what I see or my relationship with Manon. It _is_ Manon."  
  
"I-I'm sorry, Nancy...I didn't mean it like that...it's just that...I had my own conceptions of what Manon looked like, that's all..."  
  
"Oh, yeah? So what does he look like?"  
  
"He looks like...it doesn't really look like a _he_, really, though not human, either...green, long hair that looks like leaves, strong arms of bark that are always open, like branches...and these feet, that go deep, like roots, so Manon is..._deeply_...attached to the Earth. And accessible."  
  
The girls fell silent. Then Nancy rolled over on her back and crossed her legs.  
  
"So how's your love-slave doing?"  
  
"M-my..."  
  
"Chris. Bonnie's been telling me that he can't get enough servitude on your behalf -- carrying your books, calling you all the time..."  
  
"Yeah, well, it's getting kind of _tired_ now. I can't say we're really dating. It's the spell, after all."  
  
Nancy chuckled.  
  
"You know, it's funny. I used to go out with Chris. I really liked him, even though he was a total asshole to me. I would have given anything to be able to make him do all those things for me, to make him so obsessed with me that he couldn't sleep. And now you have it. And you don't want it."  
  
Sarah suddenly felt something tickle her bare leg. It felt like the wind blowing some grass against her skin.  
  
It was a dark-brown waterbug.  
  
"Life's _funny_, sometimes, isn't it, Sarah?"  
  
End  
  
  
  



End file.
